Cha. 4 Morning rituals

We all, after getting up in the morning, do some things that should or do bring us to a state of being awake (or whatever passes for that). 


For me, this morning routine, waking up, breakfast and so on, is part of the makeup of each special day. 
If you think about it, you probably do this in a particular order to bring about the sense of well being and normality. 


Read the news or watch the reports on a favorite T.V. channel. This being part of a routine and even ritual in a way. 
If incorporating outside factors into the routine, those other sources have to have been instilled as a sort of trusted part of the mornings procedures, leading to the point you can walk out of the door with an air of a person who has not just fallen out of the dark side of hell, but with a beautiful feeling and a wonderful smile.


Well, start the day. What do you use to spark of a wonderful beginning to each tropical breakfast, before setting out for the days adventure?


For me, it begins with just getting up. The moment I realize that the night is gone, it's time to do something other than squeeze out the last bit of shut-eye, in the remaining few minutes of interrupted slumber.

It's morning; I tip-toe out of bed so as not to wake my wife and baby nestled in her arms. Last nights party of milk bottles and nappy changes still fresh in mind. Stepping carefully out of door to the kitchen, following Puki (our pet doggy) who often charges out with me to complete his own morning ablutions.


I put the kettle on, start some bread in the toaster and retire to the bathroom for my own ten minute morning bodily needs. After washing my hands and heading back to the kitchen, I make a pot of tea to go with my plain white toast. 


It's 6:00 AM, I have my chill-out music playing on a portable touch pad, which altogether with my breakfast are placed onto a table set next to a retro 60's garden lounge chair and then make ready my pipe for the next hours dawn scenery gazing delight.


Traditionally, I am a cigar or cigarette smoker. A pipe I had believed to be for absolute retirement, accompanied by slippers and an old Labrador. 
I have an old second hand Alco pipe, I bought this in a Welsh charity shop for 50 pence during the time we were there during of the birth of my son. 
It's one of the most delightful smokes I have ever experienced. The taste, the coolness of the smoke flavored with the cherry wood pipe bowl, is all it takes for me, in the first 15 minutes of the morning to reach euphoria.

I light up my pipe with a brass Zippo my wife got me as a 40th birthday present. 


It's simply wonderful. 


After I begin to smoke, my meditation state begins. The still tropical early morning noises filter into my hearing, birds, frogs, crickets, joyously cheering in the dawn.


Before I know it, after sipping the smoke, the pipe has gone cold. I've forgotten all about it and I began to chew my toast and drink my tea, my mind free and wondering. 


In my meditation, thoughts, reflections, memories, friends faces, conversations, all mingle into a filmography of recollection and entanglement. 
Where each thought relates and inspires new thoughts, which in turn pull up memories which conjur up sounds, smells, laughs and even smiles. 
I reflect on  the love, the perfect morning and how beautifully the day is shaping up already. 


At 6:45AM it's still quiet, no cars zooming by, no sirens, no nothing except natures song, bidding each to get up and enjoy the sunrise.


The sun rises, it starts so slowly, then launches into the sky amid a blaze of cool to hot glory. The brightness seems immediate. Always wear sunglasses from the first glints of solar rays.


My routine, my ritual if you like, starts just like that every morning. 
The morning view I described in the opening page, is  varied only by the weather passing through. 
Bright sunny clear blue mornings, to almost English winter grey cloudy monsoon like down pours. Each day is uniquely special mingling alongside my deep meditation, thanking Jah for being so fortunate.


My ritual, I would imagine, is not unique. Man has probably been doing something like this for eons, long before a president Nixon and his unhappy killjoy Nixon-ites came along and tried to murder Mary Jane.


Mary Jane lives, she is truly wonderful and full of character. 


To experience the deepest, purest sweetest meditation, the environment and ritual should be each day perfected and made even more sumptuous (if [at all] possible). My morning ritual is part natural, but all inspired.


Good morning sun and son.